The lighted bugs flickered here and there. He held fast to Holt’s knees as he reached out to grab as many as he could on the walk to the river’s edge.
Once there, Addison lifted the boy off his shoulders and stood him on the moist grass beside him.
“I’m going to show you something I learned as a young lad, such as yourself.”
Deep, green eyes gazed up at him.
“Let me see . . .” Finding a large payload of smooth, flat stones lying just to the left of where they stood, he reached down and grabbed a handful. “Now, open your hand.”
Holt held out his hand, palm up.
“I want you to toss this out there, as hard as you can, as far as you can.” Addison demonstrated the toss, arcing his stone to the side so that the flat surface skipped across the top of the water.
The boy’s eyes lit with fascination. He bit the bottom of his lip in concentration and threw his first rock into the River Ashley.
It didn’t go far, but the light in the lad’s eyes, and the enormous grin stretching his lips, was enough to make Addison laugh. Holt reached for more rocks, chucking each one into the water one right after the other. Addison shrugged and began to follow in the boy’s example.
They laughed together and threw rocks for quite some time. “I think it might be time for you to head back, son.”
Addison found himself ruffling the lad’s dark hair.
He’d acquired a son. A bright, mischievous, smaller version of his mother. A tightness squeezed his chest at the emotion hitting him at the realization.
He crouched down on his knees and gave the boy a one-armed hug just then.
“More!” Not an unusual request from such an energetic child.
“I’ve promised to bring you back to Miss Teach.” Gripping the lad’s much smaller hand, he turned them to go back up the grass walkway. How simple an act, grabbing a boy’s hand. Yet, a fervor rushed through his veins. Fatherhood. Yes, he could do this.
Anne glowed in the moonlight, shoulders bared, all creamy-white. Wisps of her ginger-red hair fluttered on the late night breeze. But, his gaze held on her dark, cotton dress when a gust flattened her skirts, outlining her magnificent body. His breath left in a whoosh. The wind and the moonlight combined forces and punched him in the gut.
“I’ve come to see what all of the excitement was over.” She smiled down at Holt as her son rushed to her side.
“Rocks, mama.” She picked him up in her arms, nuzzling her face into his little neck.
A pang he couldn’t describe, an odd thumping where his heart was, overwhelmed him as she cuddled her son. Her face glowed with happiness.
“Aye, a terribly fun past-time, if I may say so.” Her eyes met his, a smile playing about her mouth.
“I thought I’d teach him the fun of being a lad.” His heart swelled at the emotion playing across her face.
Eliza strode toward them, coming for her charge like a bee after its nest.
“It’s Master Holt’s bed time, milord, my lady.”
“Aye, Eliza. Here you go, Holt.” Anne placed the boy into Eliza’s waiting arms, brushing her lips to his cheek. “Sweet dreams, darling.”
Holt looked to him, and Addison ruffled his hair once more. “G’night, son.”
“Nite.” Holt rested his head on Eliza’s shoulder as she strolled back toward the house.
“He’s full of your energy, I’m thinking.” His pulse stirred at her crooked smile.
She gazed out at the river. “Aye, you’d be right. I’ve energy aplenty. My father had quite a time with me growing up. I never wanted to sit still long enough to learn the proper duties of a lady of the house.”
Surprised by the revealing conversation, he tread slowly so as not to interrupt the giving mood she seemed to be in. He needed to know more.
“You had no urge to sew, or worry about the daily workings of a household?”
She eyed the moon. “Not one bit. I wanted to ride horses, racehorses, go sailing. My father was so disappointed in me by the time I came of age.”
Not wanting the temporary truce between them to end, he grabbed her hand to pull her along the river to a spot he knew they could relax.
“What . . .? Where are we going?”
He turned to her, grinning at her confused look. “There is a much better view over here.” Turning back to shove a few wayward branches from their path, he coaxed more. “Sailing. You had mentioned your love of sailing before.”
The smell of river water, ragweed, and the many magnolia trees permeated the air around them. They trekked through the grassy slope to where an outcropping of rocks rose from a small cove of the river.
“There’s nothing like feeling the wind in your hair, sea spray on your face, and the fresh scent of the ocean. I liken it to how a bird feels when flying.”
He stopped them on a grassy patch, still holding her hand, warm and soft tucked into the palm of his hand.
As if she realized their hands were still entwined, she removed hers. Not wanting to spook her, he sat first, then lay back in the grass, placing one hand behind his head.
“I have to agree with you on that. It’s quite freeing. I enjoy it rather a lot. Many times, I sail with one of my ships just to feel that way.”
She looked down at him, her green eyes indiscernible with the moonlight directly behind her. The light tone of her skin fairly glowed, however, the creamy silkiness of it aching for his touch.
Turning to look once again at the moon high over them, she sighed. “With the moon so large and bright like this, I wish I were on a ship right now.”
He patted the ground next to him, not sure if it was a good idea or not, but he was compelled to feel her next to him.
“Come, have a sit. Stare up at the stars with me.”
“No, I need to return to the house.” She stared at him as if he’d asked her to eat a snake.
He grinned, “Come on. You’ve never seen stars until you’ve lain here and gazed up at them.” He thumped the grassy area once more.
She shook her head, fiery wisps escaping her braid. “No.”
Sighing, he reached up. “For Christ’s sake, Anne.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down beside him, rolling to put one leg over both of hers as she lay on her back.
She sputtered, but didn’t fight as he’d undoubtedly caught her off guard. Inhaling, he could smell the lilac soap she’d used earlier.
“Let me up, please.” She remained still, but she breathed heavily, her breasts plumping up and straining against her dress with each breath. Peering up at the sky, she evaded his eyes.
Smiling, he reached out to trace the elegant line of her neck. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” She visibly shivered, although the air was thick with moisture and warmth.
“There are so many.” She swallowed, licking her lips after. “You know, the number of times I’ve gazed up at the night sky, I never bothered to simply enjoy the moon and stars as just that—an incredible view.”
Her lips were ripe, plump, but her porcelain features swelled his desire. For every star in the sky this evening, she had an accompanying freckle dotting her ivory skin. They made her appear soft, and innocent.
“I can’t keep my eyes off them.”
Dragging a finger in a slow swirl from the dip at the base of her throat across her shoulder, he traced the freckles. Her breathing paced his touch, a small pulse ticked in her throat. Tension filled the air, an energy that sparked whenever they were in proximity of one other.
“You come here often.” Her voice came out breathy, and slow.
Tempted, he leaned forward and brushed his lips along her cheek, whispering in her ear. “Not as much as I’d like.”
A moan escaped her, and any thought other than sinking into her floa
ted from his brain.
“To hell with it . . .” She uttered the words he’d been screaming at himself for days, before turning her head and pressing those full, rosy lips to his.
Her hand found his hair, her fingers sliding up into his scalp as he opened her mouth with his tongue. There were no sounds of the river around them, only a hot, searing fire while they kissed, his hand cupping her breast. The kiss, their tongues mingling, small gasps escaping her, seemed to go on forever, before his trousers confined his pleasure. She arched up into his hand as he rubbed along her breast.
Tearing his mouth away from her, he slid the top of her gown down to expose the breast he’d neglected, and laved it with his tongue. Her hand clutched in his hair, her eyes closed.
Working the hem of her dress up, he trailed his fingers along the inside of her thigh, inching higher and higher with each flick of his tongue on her nipple. As his fingertips found her moist, heated center, her fingers gripped, pulling him up.
A groan escaped him as her tongue traced his bottom lip, and then plunged into his mouth, as his fingers continued to slide in and out of her. Her kiss grew hurried, wild, and he met her all the way, his rod throbbing behind the laces of his breeches.
Needing to slow them down before he burst, he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of his chest, and her legs spread on either side of his hips. Groaning, as this was decidedly worse than remaining upright, they continued the fevered kiss, her hands still in his hair.
She moaned the moment she rested her exposed bottom on his breeches, her bottom sliding against the hard length of him.
He nearly shot up off the ground so intense the sultry, seductive slide of her on his already throbbing member.
Instead, he grabbed her hips, aiding her movement as she slowly rubbed herself up and down. His heart thundered, as if it were going to pound right out of his chest.
Blister it.
Their tongues remained entangled as he pushed her up and quickly undid his laces, releasing the part of him that craved her. Moving her skirts up higher, he gripped her by the upper thighs, allowing her to feel the skin-to-skin friction.
“How . . . delicious.” He breathed into her mouth, swallowing, trying not to come undone as she slid, moist and sleek, along the length of him.
“God.” She whispered back as if just discovering the sensation herself. She shuddered, increasing her pace.
Stopping her before it was too late, he grabbed her thighs tight, inched her up and guided himself into her molten center. She pulled away from his mouth, staring down into his eyes.
Her pupils were large, her hands on his shoulders firm, as she bit her lip.
The longer she stayed there, not moving, the deeper he went. It was the most blissful, erotic thing he’d ever done. The feel of her, wrapped tight around him, pulsing slightly.
Then, she moved her bottom. It was his turn to shiver.
“You’ll undo me.” With one hand, he pulled her down to his mouth. The other, he gripped her bottom, pushing her up and down. He hadn’t needed to assist her, for she undulated her hips and moved on her own, soft moans escaping her.
The pace increased, the wild, maelstrom of passion spiraling up until she cried out into his mouth, and convulsed around him. Catching her lips again, he drove into her, ever harder, until he reached his own precipice and a billion stars exploded in his brain.
Feeling her lips upon the side of his throat, panting, they lay there, both of them breathing heavily.
“I never knew stars could be so arousing.” Her voice vibrated with breathless wonder along his neck.
Resting his arms around her, he smiled up at the star-strewn sky. “Nor I.” Had he really just taken her out by the river? In the grass? Good God. A tavern. A river. He was fast becoming a lecherous horny toad.
Lifting her to a sitting position, he remembered what he threatened her with earlier in the day, “This certainly was not a proper place.”
A satisfied smile curved her lips, “Definitely not somewhere you would make love to a lady.”
She stood, straightened her skirts, adjusted her bosom, and looked around the grassy hill. “Just goes to prove my point.”
Sighing, he righted his breeches and bounded up to stand before her. “The point is . . . I cannot keep my hands off you.”
Their eyes met, and a shadow seemed to pass over her moonlit features. “It changes nothing, you know.”
Grabbing her hand, he led them back to the grass walkway. Why did she fight it?
“It changes many things, Anne. Many.”
Chapter 18
Once inside the house, Anne hurried up to the nursery, avoiding any other conversation with Addison. Her body still sang from their explosive joining. Gulping down air, she realized she could easily slip into his bed and spend the night engaging in the same, delicious activity.
Once inside the nursery, she found Garrett and Frederica sound asleep, and Eliza nowhere to be found. Opening the door to her room, she discovered Holt lying in the middle of her bed, slumbering peacefully.
The picture of him there, his dark hair tousled, his body curled into a tiny ball, sent a tremor into her heart. This was all too good to be real.
Her father had rescued her from prison, and sent her to a beautiful, rice plantation as a widow. Her children had a home and a respectable man to encourage and raise them. Could she truly put her past behind her?
Surely, she didn’t need a man to feel content, or even happy.
But, this one . . .
Hand fluttering to where her heart pounded so hard she feared it would burst through her chest, she rebelled against the emotion creeping up on her. It just could not be.
Removing her wrinkled gown, she picked a wrapper from her wardrobe and shimmied into it, recalling the feel of Addison’s hands and lips.
“Good God.” The thought of possessing him sent more fire racing through her blood.
With thoughts like that, she would be restless all night and useless the next day.
Lifting her son into her arms, he slept peacefully as she pulled back the covers, then settled into the deep, billowy mattress. Rolling onto her side, she placed Holt on the bed, tugging him into the crook of her body. She lay there for a bit, pondering the possibility of just letting go and allowing herself the luxury of everything in her reach at the moment.
Her life before her rescue deemed her only worthy of callous, shallow attentions from men who loved her not.
Addison, respected and prosperous, handsome and charming, how had he bartered for such a wayward, stubborn bride? Entertaining the idea of becoming his wife stirred her mind in many ways. Her heart fluttered at the thought of acquiring his love. Could he come to love her?
Had she fallen in love with her arrogant, yet seductive, lord?
Anne awakened to the sounds of tiny feet plopping across the wooden floors. Stretching, she smiled as her son’s dark, curly head ran past her line of vision. Not long after she sat up, a knock sounded at the door.
“Yes?”
The door opened to reveal a slightly rankled Eliza.
“Mrs. Morgan, I do apologize, but I was worried when I didn’t see Holt in his bed.”
Anne smiled, “I’m sorry. He was asleep, here, when I returned last night, and I could not resist sleeping beside him.”
Upon spying her standing there, Holt ran to Eliza, hugging her legs. “Nanny.”
Smoothing his hair, her typical indulgent smile reappeared, “Good morning, lad.”
“Eliza, do you know . . .” her heart pounded just thinking of him, “. . . if Lord Blackhurst has awakened?”
“Oh, aye, he’s an early riser. I believe he’s in the dining hall.”
Shoving off the covers, she jumped from the bed, determined to see wher
e her future might take her—that is, if she decided to go that route.
“Thank you.” Rifling through her wardrobe, she had an idea.
Eliza was just pulling Holt along through the door. “Eliza, would you make sure my son is dressed and ready for a visit to town?”
The older lady nodded, and the door closed behind them.
Anne followed the delectable smells of Delcie’s cooking down to the dining hall. Before losing all the courage she’d spent years accumulating as a pirate, she breezed in through the door. As she’d hoped, Addison sat enjoying his breakfast.
His spoon stopped mid-air upon her entrance, and the silver of his eyes made her pause at the end of the table. She felt like a hare caught in the hound’s sight, heart hammering, a tingle shooting down her spine.
“Good morning, Anne.” His voice was a slow, seductive drawl, almost as if he were caressing her.
“Morning.” Courage, Anne. Stepping forward, he watched her every movement as she took a seat to his left.
“Did you sleep well?” He resumed eating his meal as a serving girl heaped eggs and sausage onto her own plate.
Remembering her thoughts as she fell asleep with Holt beside her, happiness filled her heart. “Aye. Although, I did have a bedmate.”
Dark brows rose above his eyes.
“Holt was curled up on my bed after—when I returned.” Heat crept into her cheeks.
“I confess, I’m jealous.” White teeth flashed as a charming smile stretched his lips. Her stomach fluttered.
My Bonny Heart (Pirate's Progeny Book 1) Page 16